


Not Quite The Same (Not Quite Bad)

by whaleofatime



Category: Free!
Genre: Established Relationship, Iwatobi White Day 2014, M/M, middle-age AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 09:31:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1423390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whaleofatime/pseuds/whaleofatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto's over forty years old now, and his sleeping habits have suffered (as have many other things). But Rin's here and Makoto's got a mini can of beer and all in all life has been really rather good to him.</p>
<p>(A middle-aged AU where they live together and wake up in the night together).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite The Same (Not Quite Bad)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyKnightOfHollyrose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKnightOfHollyrose/gifts).



Middle-age hits most people hard; middle, halfway to death technically, and if people tend to be grumpy and near bored to tears on Wednesdays, imagine what they're like in their fourties (the Wednesday of their _life_ ). It hits athletes and women particularly bad, mostly because physiological changes mess with the body and a bit with the mind.  
  
Makoto tries to be graceful about it, and has been trying to be graceful about it ever since he found his first white hair at age thirty nine, three years ago now. Hell, if you ask Rin, Makoto's been trying to be graceful about everything his whole entire life. Man certainly puts up a good face, the veritable darling of their sleepy little town in Shizuoka prefecture, the head nurse at the maternity ward. Age has made a strong hard body softer around the edges, but experience happily means that his hands are as steady as ever when things go wrong and five different machines start screaming in the operating theater.  
  
All in all, growing old’s gone pretty well for Makoto. He’s got a good job that involves spending a lot of time playing big brother to the world (well, more like dad now, given his age), he’s medically trained for all those occasions that Rin forgets that he hasn’t been a teen for a long time now and decides he can outswim his Olympic hopefuls, his hair’s still more brown than white, and the Tachibana lineage is one that is generally free of age-related sicknesses.   
  
These are things he repeats to himself over and over again, as he gets up to go to the bathroom for the third time in the night. It’s half past four, the clock hanging in the hallway tells him, and with a slightly aggravated sigh Makoto takes a turn at the stairwell, heading down to the kitchen instead of back to bed with a gently snoring Rin. No amount of good nature or good genes could help it; the older you got the less well you slept, and Makoto’s gotten accustomed to idly watching animal documentary DVDs as he waits for the sun to rise.  
  
He doesn't like it, of course. It’s easy to remember the lazy comfort of waking up late on a Sunday, warm sunlight hitting an exposed tummy while Ren and Ran make havoc as they used to when they were all a bunch of kids (nii-chan included), especially when he’s up before the birds and when he’s particularly tired the hands holding his mug of tea sometimes have a fine tremor.  
  
Some days he’ll read up on notes about new medical procedures and treatments. Sometimes he fires up his laptop and continues a story about a goldfish slowly swimming its way through the universe. Makoto had started the story way back in his last year of high school, a stress reliever while university entrance exams needed studying for, and now it’s hundreds of thousands of characters long, with bits of it helpfully illustrated by Haru.   
  
(Most of the time Makoto’s sure he’s written the fish with Haru in mind. Sometimes he thinks maybe it’s him, swimming through the wild wondrous universe of affection people have seen fit to drown him in.)  
  
(Because Rin is a master at being embarrassing, he is unaware of the existence of this literary masterpiece).  
  
Today Makoto’s feeling uncommonly cranky, and his back is aching after a 16-hour-shift, so he decides to opt for a small can of beer and a lie-down on the bench they’ve set outside in the small garden. Shizuoka is quiet and asleep, and as he sips his beer Makoto idly imagines being 80, even more tired and frail and sleepless. He wonders if his parents are up too, talking to each other in quiet voices. Wonders if Nagisa is still as quick to fall asleep as he’s ever been, and if Rei would grade essays if he ever had trouble sleeping.  
  
It’s relaxing, if not restful. The can of beer is half the size of an average one, and all too soon the smooth bitterness is gone and Makoto’s fiddling with it, wishing he could be less reasonable about alcohol intake sometimes (it’s still only 5 something, what’s he meant to do now-)  
  
The can is snatched out of his hand, and for a brief startled moment Makoto’s mind goes into goddamn overdrive and he’s hysterically wondering if recyclables burglars are now a new thing for him to be scared of.  
  
It isn’t, it’s just Rin trying to finish the final dregs of the beer, looking disgruntled to find it bone dry before dropping to splay himself across the top of Makoto’s body. Rin’s still sharp teeth worry at Makoto’s neck, before he’s interrupted by a yawn. “Couldn’t sleep?”  
  
Makoto just hums, running his hand through Rin’s chlorine-brittle hair. “You?”  
  
A grunt, and a sharper bite. “Wouldn’t be here otherwise, would I?” Rin sounds disgruntled, but what’s new. He scrambles around a little, turning and twisting until he’s comfortably settled, crown resting under Makoto’s chin. He’s pleased, like a cat with staked territory.  
  
“Good point,” Makoto concedes with a quiet laugh. “You don’t usually wake up in the night, though. Something happen?” What would Rin’s father be dreaming of, underwater and alone-. Hold it in, now, Rin doesn’t need to play witness to Makoto’s morning eccentricities. He moves a little to kiss hair that tickles his neck.  
  
Rin shrugs. “Just woke up, all of a sudden. Must be old age, huh?” Rin’s voice implies he won’t be letting his age get in the way of him being Rin to the greatest possible extent, and as far as Makoto’s concerned the major thing that’s changed for his dear, dear shark is an increase of soft lines at the eyes and mouth from laughing and smirking and grinning a lot (a badge of age anyone should wear proudly).

Maybe Rin’s a vampire too, and he’s sucking out Makoto’s energy to use for his own! That would explain this irritating fatigue!

  
(Makoto’s got no complaints at the prospect of keeping Rin powered. It’s a compliment however you look at it.)  
  
“Must be.” Rin’s a much better companion than a can of mini beer. It’d be nice if this could happen more often. Even just one night out of the week not left to himself in the morning dark, that would be nice. “That said, though, you should get some sleep. Have to get out of bed and get those kids of yours to start their training at eight am sharp, don’t you?”  
  
Without prior warning, Makoto finds his forehead flicked, though since Rin can’t see his target he almost flicked an eyeball instead. “Shut it, Mako-chan. You get up and can’t sleep a lot, don’t you? Once in a while, the hell’s wrong with seeing the morning come with your ravishingly hot lover on top of you?” Makoto’s good with magic tricks masquerading as words, so Rin’s gotten real good at uncovering via listening. The only way for Makoto to know Rin sleeps well most nights of his life is for the man to be awake to see it, after all. Thank you, random incident of waking up. Least he’s learned one more thing about Makoto (Rin’s got zero intention of leaving his ridiculously cute nurse to fester alone more than necessary, thanks very much.)  
  
By nature not fond of lying, Makoto happily accepts defeat and just hugs Rin tighter. “It’s the opposite of wrong! If you don’t mind it, I certainly don’t.” He nuzzles Rin, marveling at how the act brings him no less joy now than it did the first time he did it in high school. “We can go out for breakfast, since we’re up so early.” Thank you for being up early, he doesn’t say, because Makoto is well aware that he’s excellent at being embarrassing too.  
  
Rin nods, turning a little in the hug so he’s facing the garden and the general direction of the sunrise. “Being up early’s not so bad,” says Rin, the life philosopher, before grinning hugely and chomping down on Makoto’s jaw. “But if you’re doing it too often, I’m pretty sure that just means I gotta tire you out more the night before, killer whale nurse-chan.” He kisses the little circle of teeth marks, and looks up to admire how the soft lines of age on Makoto’s face just mostly serve to make an already killer smile even more fiercely attractive. “Hope your body is ready, Makoto.”  
  
Makoto’s hands have gravitated down to clasp on the small of Rin’s back, and he feels a pleased flush slowly crawling its way up his neck. Wild and adventurous sex are mostly a thing of the past now, as is being able to do the 100m sprint at a reasonable time, swimming in between uninhabited islands, the ability to game for approximately 32 hours straight, and a good night of uninterrupted sleep. Lots of things are a thing of the past, but as Rin plants his hands on Makoto’s shoulders and rubs their stubbled cheeks together, Makoto reflects that it’s not all bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Took part in Iwatobi White Day 2014, to answer LadyKnightofHollyrose's super awesome prompt for middle-aged Makorin. My knowledge of canon is iffy because my memory's like a sieve and I've read too much fanfiction ahahaha so hopefully I didn't make any massive mistakes. It was fun, and I think she liked it, so all in all I call it a success (you'll never get me to leave now probably). Hope it was a nice read :>


End file.
